


until your legs give in

by towokuwusatsuwu



Category: HiGH&LOW: the Story of S.W.O.R.D. (TV)
Genre: Couch Sex, Established Relationship, Introspection, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 19:59:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15275115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towokuwusatsuwu/pseuds/towokuwusatsuwu
Summary: jesse offers to help brown out after an injury earned in their battle with sannoh leaves his dominant hand indisposed. brown would be remiss if he didn't offer to return the favor.





	until your legs give in

It isn’t the first time Jesse walks in on Brown in the middle of trying to get himself off.

They were prison mates, at one point, and prison made it basically impossible to have any kind of meaningful privacy unless they grouped up together to give a member privacy one at a time. Post-prison, though, none of them seem the least bit bothered about it. Things like privacy and personal space mean nothing to them in the long-run; Jesse demonstrates this himself, shutting the door behind him without a care in the world, eyes lingering over where Brown has stretched himself out on the worn couch, one hand between his legs and the other braced on the back of the couch. He has a leg cocked up on the couch, too, spreading himself nice and wide.

It’s a pretty picture to walk in on. It would be prettier if Brown didn’t swear and yank his hand away from himself, raking the fingers still dry through his hair. “Damn it!”

“What’s wrong?” Jesse leans over the back of the couch, chin resting on the soft cushion.

“That tall motherfucker got my good arm.” Brown rolls his shoulder and winces; Jesse echoes the expression in sympathy when Brown hisses in pain. “That’s making this real difficult.”

Jesse can sympathize; the first time he’d ever been intimate with Ice was because he broke three fingers in his right hand and proceeded to not be able to jack himself off later that night when he was trying to work the rest of the frustration out. “You want some help, then?”

“That’d be nice.” Brown flexes his fingers, then huffs. “Yeah, I’m gonna need it.”

“No problem. Just get yourself nice and comfortable while I get changed.” After all, Jesse just came in from a job. He wants comfortable clothing, to get out of his coat, and he should really wash the dried blood off of his hands instead of smearing it all over Brown’s skin.

He leaves the living room behind, double checking to make sure he locked the front door before he lets himself into the bathroom to wash up. The fight had been fast and easy for him, an easy chunk of cash; Ranmaru can always be relied on for fast money and he always has at least one person lined up for Jesse to take care of when he wants the money. Though Jesse walked away with not even a single bruise, his hands are itching from the blood dried in ugly crimson and brown swathes across his skin. Let it never be said he doesn’t get the job done.

Pho is asleep in their shared bedroom with Akune tucked up beneath his arm; Jesse smiles at the sight as he drifts soundlessly through the room, dropping his fur on top of Pho’s, changing out of his clothes into a comfortable t-shirt and a baggy pair of pajama bottoms that probably belong to Pho from the way they barely fit his hips. He leaves his binder on the dresser, stretching his shoulders, taking a few deep breaths to make sure everything has settled correctly. When he’s satisfied, he heads back to the living room.

“Making me wait, so not fair.” Brown’s ass is on the edge of the cushions, one foot braced on the coffee table. “Are those Pho’s pants? They don’t fit on you at all.”

Jesse wrinkles his nose at him. “I know that, but they’re comfy. Did you get close, even?”

“Nah. Hand kept hurting and distracting me from anything good.” Brown sighs, screws his eyes shut; Jesse can see the muscles twitching in his thighs. “I feel like I’m gonna die.”

“You’ll be good. I’m here now, remember.” Jesse grabs one of the worn decorative pillows off the couch, pitching it on the floor in front of Brown so he can kneel on it. “I got you, and I’ve never left any of you hanging. Besides, you aren’t gonna die from blue balls.”

“It sure feels like it,” Brown mutters.

Dramatic as always. Jesse kisses the inside of his thigh and Brown jerks. “I’ll take care of you.”

Jesse is good with his mouth; it was one of the only compliments Ryu ever granted him after Jesse left them trembling on the bedsheets, his mouth wet from the work. He has skills and he knows it, and he loves to show off here just like he loves to show off when he fights. When he runs his tongue over Brown’s labia, soft and damp, Brown moans for him and it’s just fuel for the fire of Jesse’s ego. He can’t help a little smirk, shifting a hand under Brown’s ass, urging him just a little closer as he presses his mouth up against him.

He might not have gotten close enough to orgasm but he’s wet, his clit hard beneath Jesse’s tongue, his folds swollen and slick inside. Every touch of Jesse’s tongue, ever flick against Brown’s clit and slow, long lick to soothe him earns a moan or a groan from above; Brown never learned how to be quiet, not that Jesse can blame him. His fingers dig into Brown’s ass just a little, other hand braced on his thigh, thumb stroking over the skin there.

“Fuck, Jess, that feels so good.” Brown arches down against his mouth and Jesse licks harder, more earnestly, tongue nudging at his entrance before easing inside. “Just like that, please…”

Begging is unnecessary; Jesse would never leave one of his boys unsatisfied. But he teases less, mouth pressed against Brown’s skin while he licks up inside of him, where he’s so wet and hot it’s amazing he wasn’t able to get himself off if he was this far gone. Jesse can feel the way the muscle tightens around his tongue; when his hand slides up Brown’s thigh so he can thumb over his neglected clit, Brown swears and fists a hand in his hair, pulling him as close as he can, thighs pressed tight against Jesse’s head to keep him firmly in place.

When he looks up the length of Brown’s body to gauge his expression, he’s pleased by what he sees. Flushed, just a little sweaty, hair mussed from its usually pompadour— he’d been gripping his own hair before Jesse’s, Jesse just  _ knows _ this, he  _ knows _ Brown so well— to fall around his face. His eyes are so dark, intent on Jesse’s face even as he clings to him.

“God, your eyes—” Brown chokes off into a moan when Jesse rubs over his clit, nudging the hood back so he can give it more direct attention. “Fuck, you look so good like that.”

Jesse hums against his skin, moving his mouth back to Brown’s clit, sucking it between his lips so he can replace his tongue with two fingers. Brown might be tight but he loves to start with two, likes the slight burn, the way Jesse has to go slow not to hurt him as he wedges them inside, the way Brown tightens down like he doesn’t want Jesse to stop touching him. His chest heaves and he groans, throws his head back even as his hips arch, lifting off the couch just a little. Jesse guides him up, working his fingers in and out, nice and slow, while he traces his name over Brown’s clit with the very tip of his tongue.

All his boys belong to him, after all. It’s only fitting.

Brown comes for him and he’s so loud that Jesse has to reach up and shove a hand over his mouth, trying to keep him from waking the others. He works him through it with just the one hand, fingers massaging over the spot just inside of him, thumb stroking over his clit wet and slippery from just how much he enjoyed himself. If there’s a slight flush of pleasure in Jesse’s cheeks from knowing he can do Brown this well, then so be it.

When he eases his fingers out, Brown twitches, presses his thighs together as the post-orgasm throbbing most likely sets in. He pants softly, eyes squeezed shut; Jesse watches him carefully as he licks his fingers clean, then pulls himself up onto the couch, tucking his back against the corner. He’s satisfied with this; he can only hope Brown is, too.

Finally able to speak again, Brown flashes him a wild grin. “Thanks, Jesse. Thought I was gonna go crazy. You always do right by us, though, I’m not surprised.”

“Told you all a long time ago you could always count on me.” Jesse allows himself to preen.

“Yeah, we can.” Brown retrieves his boxers— they’d been lying on the floor, not that Jesse noticed— and pulls them back on. Then he’s on Jesse, pinning him against the couch with the warm weight of his body. “Want me to return the favor now?”

Jesse hums, resting a hand on Brown’s shoulder, fingers tracing the dark lines of his tattoo, a dark brand against his skin. “Don’t just shove your hand down my pants. Kiss me first.”

The others have poked fun at him for being the romantic type, much to Jesse’s annoyance, but Brown knows better than to test him and just leans in to kiss him, long and slow. Normally, he’s all tongue and no finesse whatsoever, making it as wet and messy as he can like he’s trying to suck his partner’s tongue out of their mouth. Jesse appreciates the care, the way Brown licks into his mouth with careful and sure movements, teases Jesse’s tongue with his own, sucks Jesse’s lip until Jesse moans, soft and low in the bottom of his throat.

“Over or under the shirt?” Brown asks him, leaning back so Jesse has to look up at him, his lips swollen and wet. “Don’t wanna freak you out or anything.”

Jesse tips his head back and thinks about it before shaking his head. “Neither. Just skip.”

“Got it, boss.” Brown only pulls Jesse’s shirt up enough to get his hands on the pajama bottoms, hands sliding around Jesse’s waist, tugging the waistband down just a little.

He’s teasing. Jesse narrows his eyes up at him, slides a hand through his loose hair and yanks on it, pulling his head to the side so he can get his mouth on that tattoo. There’s something about touching this spot with his mouth; he still remembers the first time he’d ever slept with Ice, the way Ice’s hands and mouth felt over where he’d inked his body, desperate to take it back from his own negative thoughts and ideals. He wonders if Brown feels the same, if he’d done this for the same reason or if it was just his natural run of poor impulse control.

When Brown’s fingers barely brush against the bottom of his stomach, Jesse sets his teeth against the tattoo, relishing the way Brown shudders. “Don’t fuck with me of all people.”

“Did I say I was gonna? Don’t be so stressed, Jess.” Brown twists his head around, pressing a kiss to the corner of Jesse’s mouth, and it has to hurt, the angle, the way it pulls at his roots because Jesse hasn’t loosened his grip on Brown’s hair at all. “Lay back and let me take care of you. I mean, unless you wanna do it on your own.”

Jesse sighs at him. “Can you even, with your arm fucked up?”

“I’ve still got one hand, I can make it work. For you, anyway.” Brown grins at him, all teeth, and Jesse tries to ignore the way that smile tugs at his chest.

He still has to help Brown get the pajamas and boxers underneath down enough so that Brown can actually touch him. His dominant hand is still useless at most things and Jesse makes a mental note to check it for himself after they’re done, pulling Brown down for another kiss when his left hand slides along Jesse’s thigh toward where he already feels wet. Maybe he’d gotten off just a little at the way Brown responded to him when he was eating him out.

Brown kisses down to his neck and Jesse lets his head tip back, letting go of Brown’s hair just as Brown’s fingers brush over his labia, a barely-there touch that has him gasping softly. He’s sensitive, more so than most people to hear Ice and Pho talk though he’d swear up and down there’s no way that’s true. But Brown just barely touches him and his eyelashes flutter, his breathing stuttered in his throat as he tries to spread his legs a little wider, hindered by his boxers bunched up just above his knees.

“Let me,” Brown repeats in his ear, and Jesse shivers. “It’s so good to see you like this.”

“Like what?” Jesse demands.

Brown grins at him, all teeth. “Like you don’t know what’s gonna happen next.”

He kisses Jesse before Jesse can protest and then his fingers are there, a little clumsy and slow— and Brown is dexterous with his dominant hand, has to be to wield those knives like an extension of his body. But he’s earnest about what he’s trying to do, thumb pressed against Jesse’s clit, rubbing in small circles that make his hips tremble in response, so much stimulation at once it’s too much. Jesse whines against his mouth and Brown’s tongue slides against his.

His thumb stays on Jesse’s clit as he slips a finger into him, just one to start, but Brown doesn’t tease him like Jesse fully expects him to. He curls that finger up against Jesse’s g-spot, doing his best to keep in rhythm with his thumb, and it’s so much, almost too much. Jesse grips him by his ridiculous floral button-up, hands fisted in the material while he tries not to move.

“You’re really wet for someone who was just doing oral,” Brown rasps against his lips.

Jesse swears when Brown curls another finger inside of him. “Shut the fuck up.”

“You know you like it when I talk to you during.” Brown kisses his jaw, leaves a wet spot behind when he pulls away. “God, Jess, you’ve really got such pretty eyes.”

“Fucker.” Jesse would kick him, but Brown puts his knee down on top of where Jesse’s pants and boxers are keeping his legs together, effectively pinning him in place.

He’s an idiot, but he’s smarter than any of them give him credit for.

Brown’s gotten him off like this before so he should know what he’s getting himself into, but he’s never quite prepared for when Brown presses another finger in and then shifts his hand so it’s the heel of his hand rubbing over Jesse’s clit, more pressure and stimulation than just his thumb, enough that Jesse’s hips stutter. Brown hums, kisses down his throat again, nips the skin there while he fucks Jesse with his fingers. And yeah, he’s right even if Jesse doesn’t want to admit it. Jesse is wet, wet enough that he can hear Brown’s fingers moving inside of him, the slick sloppy sounds that only seem to grow louder in the quiet.

Jesse’s moans are high and breathy, his head pressed hard into the couch cushions while Brown works him over, leaving little nibbles all over his throat while his fingers work their magic. It’s not quite enough so Jesse shifts his body so he can move, rocking his hips down, riding Brown’s fingers, grabbing his good shoulder for balance.

Brown’s dark eyes glitter as he rubs his hand over Jesse’s clit, fingers moving so that Jesse can ride them more easily. “Go for it, Jess. Take everything you need from me.”

The thing is, Jesse’s never good at laying back and letting other people do the hard work. His body moves of its own accord, his hips insistently rocking down against Brown’s fingers, heat curling slow and tight in his gut as he does. His entire body feels so tightly wound that he might come undone at any moment and yet he has to keep reaching for his orgasm, squeezing his eyes shut, struggling for it. It doesn’t come and he whimpers, clinging tighter to Brown.

“Need more?” Brown asks, nudging Jesse’s throat with his nose. “Tell me.”

“Y-yeah.” Jesse’s voice trembles. “Pl-please, I n-need—”

Brown kisses him, folds a fourth finger inside of him, the stretch unbelievable, the burn making Jesse cry out against his mouth. And yet it’s exactly what he needs, the furious motions of his hips getting him somewhere now. His thighs burn and his body trembles and he’s close, so close, and then  _ there. _ It washes over him, pure heat and pleasure, whiting out his vision.

When Jesse comes back down from it, Brown carefully eases his fingers out of him, one by one, kissing Jesse in-between and whispering soft nothings against his lips. They’ll have to wash a spot off the couch cushion probably, but it’s fine. It won’t be the first time one of them has had this happen.

Jesse feels almost raw inside as he watches Brown disappear to the bathroom, coming back with a roll of toilet paper in hand. He tosses the roll Jesse’s way after taking some for himself, helping Jesse clean up the wetness sticky on his thighs; he’d made a real mess of himself. Then Brown kisses him, slow and sweet, and flashes him a smile.

“Wanna share my bed tonight?” he asks.

“Lemme see your arm first,” Jesse says, ignoring the way Brown rolls his eyes at him. “Let me.”

After confirming Brown hasn’t suffered serious damage— Jesse would burn down the entire section of city belonging to Sannoh if he had— he lets Brown drag him up to his room. His knees are still unsteady and his head feels light and not quite attached to his shoulders, but in a good way, in the best way.

Jesse loathes being the small spoon usually but he lets Brown curl against his back, lets Brown hug him around the waist, nosing against the back of his neck.

He can let it go just this once.


End file.
